


Pain(t) the Town Red

by orphan_account



Category: Skullgirls
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At some point or another, Labs Eight and Zero decide to join forces. The results are somewhat unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain(t) the Town Red

**Author's Note:**

> For Superflight on DW. Happy new year!

People could criticize the doc all they wanted - at least he kept his experiments fed. This kid, on the other hand, was a scrawny pile of bones. The stupid helicopter whatchamacallit hooked up to her spine probably weighed more than she herself did. 

Peacock’s teeth clicked as she blew a long stream of cigar smoke in the experiment’s face. The freak didn’t even flinch. “What’s her name?”

“It is Subject 0-84,” the masked doctor crackled, his red eyes glowing. “It is also known as Painwheel.”

She rolled her eyes – all six of ‘em. She took another drag of her aftertaste-free cigar and muttered under her breath, “Probably spent a week coming up with that one.”

The cyborg looked over the newbie some more. When they dragged her out of that big metal crate, she was just some shivering heap until Mister Roboto booted her up. Now she was just staring ahead like a dumb idiot, hands twitching every now and then.

Before she could say anything else, the doc cleared his throat and patted the orange-haired girl on the joint of her shoulder. “She’s very different from any of our experiments. Have you kept a log on her?”

“Of course. And on the rest of our trials as well.” The trenchcoated scientist folded his hands behind his back. “I’d prefer it if the princess never heard of this. It would be…most inconvenient.”

Doctor Avian nodded. His lips smiled but his eyes were hard. “Certainly. It’ll be a pleasure to work with you.” 

Peacock almost rolled her eyes again. To think, just thirty minutes ago, he was sweating like a Medici in confessional, muttering stuff like _I don’t condone some of his works, no, no I don’t._ Eh. That was people. They were just dumb sometimes.

Besides, that wasn’t to say that this guy wasn’t a creep. She could feel some kind of psychic power pouring off of him; Avery must’ve felt it, too, considering the way he paced around on top of her head. He wasn’t so scary, though. This doc was probably just some loser nerd who set up his lab in his mom’s basement. With a groan, she looked up at Avian. “This guy ain’t gonna stay with us, is he?”

Old gramps just quirked an eyebrow. “He has to, Patricia. I’d like to test some things involving the synthetic parasites with him.”

“And I myself prefer to be referred to as Doctor, dear Patricia,” the creep rumbled. “Or Doctor Brain Drain.” 

Yep, he was a complete nerd, all right. She spat her cigar at his feet and hissed, “And I prefer to be referred to as _Peacock._ ” With a grunt she turned away from him, grimacing at the bitter taste in her mouth (stupid liars). “Whatever. Doc, I’m gonna head to the TV room.”

“All right, then. Doctor, please follow me to my office.” The doctor scratched his ears as he glanced over the idle experiment. “And, as for Miss…Painwheel, over here, perhaps some of the guards can—”

“Naw, she’s gonna come with me,” Peacock interrupted, taking the kid's skinny arm, which the cyborg’s fingers could probably wrap around a dozen times over. “C’mon, we’re gonna watch Annie. For reference.”

Brain Drain clomped over to the old scientist. They looked so dumb standing next to each other, a real Pinky and the Brain kinda affair. Or Pinky and the Brain Drain, except the creepy doc didn’t seem all that smart. “What does she mean by Annie?”

“Annie, Girl of the Stars,” Avian said as he turned away with the taller doctor. “It’s a television show about a girl who fights the Skullgirl. Very popular among children, young and old. You might have heard of it, yes?”

“I have not. Nevertheless, there is much to discuss.” They were already heading down the hall, but she could still hear Brain Drain murmur, “For instance, this Patricia of yours, she is very insolent. You need to discipline her—”

Peacock bristled at that, gnashed bear-trap teeth. She was about to shout where to shove his discipline, except Doctor Avian already closed the door behind them. That was when she noticed the small growl coming from behind her, and Painwheel’s arm tensing under her fingers. She let go of the wrist, snorting. “Chill out, okay? Let’s get going already.”

The experiment followed her with jerky, limping movements. The shorter girl shook her head as she cracked a steel grin. “Seriously, no Annie in your life?” She looked over her shoulder, her grin growing wide. “What did those monsters do to you?”

She cackled, loud and harsh. Painwheel just trudged behind her without making a sound.

 

Having Brain Drain there really cramped her style. He kept asking for more and more tests and experiments, just when the Merrie Melodies block was on. She would have ignored him if it weren’t for Ileum the intestine lady glaring at her with her dead eyes. Then Peacock would have to head to the testing chambers, and she’d have to test out all of her capacities or capabilities or whatever on practice dummies and illusions. It wasn’t anything fun like blowing up stuff for real.

Even when she was done, she wasn’t allowed to leave, so instead she sat and observed Painwheel. She didn’t fight anything at all like Peacock. The freak pretty much broke her body to fight, a million times in the same hour. She’d bend her limbs in ways that shouldn’t have gone, and fired bullet-spikes out of herself like her skin was hacking loogies.

Something about the blood and parasites in her body made her body stitch itself back up really fast, but still, she wasn’t a wimp. Not like Brain Drain, who always spent his time behind glass during Painwheel’s tests. To think, he was supposed to pull the strings, but he was too scared to be in the same room as her. What a hoot.

She smirked as the experiment howled and threw her blade things into the ground, tearing gashes in the steel floor. Jeez, Peacock could practically see the camera-shake whenever the freak smashed something. A snicker rattled out of her throat as she glanced around the chambers. Considering the general mayhem they had wreaked, the janitor was gonna have a lot of fun after this.

Avery didn’t seem to find it so funny. He poked her head, then stuck his beak out from under her hat. “I dunno, boss,” he squawked. “She’s kinda scary.”

“Nah,” she said. “I’ve seen worse.”

Really, though, Painwheel wasn’t that bad. When training was over, the kid wasn’t anything like she was in combat. She just crouched on the couch beside Peacock, always staring ahead at the screen like there was no difference between the shows and the commercials. While it was kind of nice to have someone actually shut up while watching a show, especially during the good parts, it was kind of awkward to have that one person not laughing at any of the funnies.

She’d try to make a little conversation with the newbie, cause that was the polite thing to do with your partners in crime, after all. But it never went anywhere. It was only when she poked one of the freak’s bony limbs that she ever did anything different. Like now, when she nudged Painwheel in the side after cracking a pretty smart joke. The kid’s eyes flared bright and her blades snapped up in place, a guttural sound churning in her throat.

“Hey, hey, cool it!” The cyborg leaned away, waving her oversized hands. “I wasn’t trying to offend you or anything, sheesh.” With a shrill rattle in her throat, she turned to the screen and pulled out a pair of cigars, then glanced over her shoulder. “You smoke?” When Painwheel didn’t move, she added, “You sure sound like you do. They say they’re good for your lungs and digestion. That’s why I smoke ‘em.”

The experiment just stared at her a little longer, then her shoulders slumped. Her blades clattered the floor with a thunk. Then she turned back to the screen, where Tom was smashing Jerry with a frying pan. 

Shrugging, Peacock shoved both cigars in her mouth. “Bet you’d like to do that to your doc,” she grunted.

 

Sometimes during testing, Painwheel would just stop in place and clutch her head and yell and yell and yell. Brain Drain called it _malfunctioning,_ and that meant she would be put in the lockdown for the night.

While everyone else was snoozing away, Peacock, with her poor sensitive ears, couldn’t help but hear her shriek all night. It didn’t matter if she shoved the pillow around her ears. The thirteen-year-old was stuck rocking back and forth in her hammock, listening to the boys snoring and the kid screaming, and she’d remember when those same sounds tore out of her throat, wrecking her voice while slave traders wrecked her body. Then she wouldn’t sleep at all.

One night, after missing all of her cartoons and wrecking one of the lab machines in protest and getting sent to bed without dinner, and after listening to the freak shrieking for hours without a break, she had enough. The cyborg rolled out of the netting and let her sleeping masks drop to her spindly metal fingers. She stepped outside (her stupid guard was already asleep) and headed out to the hall, then stomped and clomped her way down to the brig, making such a racket that she probably woke up everyone in the lab. At least, she hoped so, cause they deserved it.

When she finally made it to the door, covered in warning signs and red lights, she kicked it with her foot and hollered, “Yo, Painwheel! Some of us are trying to get our beauty sleep!” 

When the freak didn’t shut up, she shouted, “If you don’t stop, I’ll make you stop!”

Three seconds of screams late, she barked, “Fine! Be that way!” She held out her arms and let the Argus lasers work their magic on the door, melting out a gap big enough for her to stumble through. The alarm system must have been too traumatized to flip out at her.

Painwheel was, too. The freak was huddled in the corner of the room, her screams now a shivering sob as Peacock clattered inside. Peacock shook her head and grumbled, “Shut up and go to sleep already, okay? You’re keeping me up.” The Argus eyes glanced around the room, her mouth turning to a grimace. “No wonder you can’t sleep. They didn’t put down a bed or a cot or anything. Dummies.” Just – yeah, people really were complete maroons.

With a long-suffering sigh, she shuffled over to Painwheel’s side and plopped down, dropping her nightcap on the experiment’s head. She only flinched and peeked out from her arms, red eyes wavering in inky black. 

“Look,” the cyborg muttered, “I got used to it my first week.” She flexed out her arms, remembering long empty nights. “You gotta get over it, or they’ll keep throwing you in here.” She pulled the sleeves she held over her eyes, grumbling, “So go to bed already.”

No one screamed for the rest of the night.

 

When she woke up that morning, there was a blanket thrown over the two of them. It must’ve been Leduc, she thought with a groan. He was the sentimental sort to do that.

 

Training went a lot more smoothly after that. They got to fight together, and she had to admit that Painwheel was sort of convenient to have around: the experiment would keep the freaks at bay with her hatredcopter, and the cyborg provided the orders and the artillery. Old Brain Drain never seemed impressed, but he could go suck a peahen.

Painwheel even seemed more polite during TV time. Sure, she wasn’t at the laughing stage yet, but she growled whenever the screen cut to the color test, or when they lost reception. Sure, Painwheel kind of growled in general, but it was so much of a coinkydink that Peacock had to say it was progress.

These days, Painwheel sat on the couch instead of crouching. She had this funny way of folding her hands on her lap that didn’t happen before. It was probably some habit from before, she thought. Rolling a cigar between gloved fingers, Peacock remarked, “You kind of remind me of a buddy I used to have. She was all polite, like you.” She stuck the cigar in her mouth. “You’re kind of uglier than her, though.” At the kid’s low grumble, she sniggered. “Just messing with you, Painy. Except for the ugly part. I’m serious about that.”

She wrestled away the blunt ends of the girl’s blades after saying that. Maybe that was just reflex, but the cyborg laughed louder and harder than she did at about half the cartoons she watched.

 

The truth was, considering how noisy people and toons usually were, it was nice to have someone who didn’t say a word. At least it, it meant Peacock to tell her things while being sure no one else would hear about it.

“So he’s trying to come up with this beautiful pickup line, right? Something that’s gonna win her heart over and everything, you know? Then he turns to her with this dumb look on his face, an , and he’s like—” She made her voice as whiny and sniveling as possible— “Hey, Hive, how’s the weather?” She cracked up and smacked Painwheel on the back, hissing, “Can you believe that? They weren’t even outside, for crying out loud—!”

The experiment shot up in her seat, breathing heavily as her eyes narrowed. At first, Peacock thought it was because of that little slap, but she had never seen this coming from Painwheel before. “Hey, what’s the matter, Wheel?” 

She didn’t settle down one bit, her spinal blades whipping in place behind her back as she crept over to the door. Peacock got to her feet, even though Wise Quacks was on. “Seriously, what’s the—”

An explosion rocked the lab, making the TV screens go haywire and Peacock fall down with an undignified squawk. With a roar Painwheel leapt out into the hall, just as her toontown buddies burst in.

“It wasn’t me, boss, it wasn’t me!” Andy waved his arms frantically, spluttering, “I was just minding my own business while Tommy here was stitching his stupid pajamas for your buddy—”

“It was your idea!” the stony-faced crony snapped. “You were the one who—”

Avery was the one to shut all of them up. “They’re here!” he screeched, pushing up the brim of Peacock’s hat. “It’s gotta be the Skullgirl’s guardians!”

Her Argus eyes boggled, then she groaned. “I was looking forward to Wince Upon a Time, too!” She snapped up to her feet, smoke pouring out of her ears. “C’mon guys! This had better be worth it!” Bursting into the hall with alarms blaring, she shouted, “Wait up, Painwheel!”

Out in the main lab, there was a whole bunch of wreckage everywhere – screens were busted, electricity cracked in the air, and there was a nasty, oily singe against her nose. Still, no sign of people. She walked forward with Andy and Tommy behind her, feet crunching against glass as she pulled out a cigar. Cuban, this time. Man, did she ever need it. 

Just as the match cracked to flame, Andy blurted out, “Boss, there’s something down—” That was all he could get out before something hurtled from the hall and bludgeoned right into their group, crashing them all into an already sorry mess of a computer. 

Stars and birdies whirling around her head, Peacock rolled Painwheel off of them. “Jeez, what happened to you?” she muttered once she shook off the daze. The kid was clawing at her face with pained whimpers, her eyes flickering from red to black. “Don’t get your blue screen of death on me now, you idiot!”

She could hear the footsteps coming down the hall from a mile away – seemed like whoever had tossed the experiment had been waiting for Peacock. “I wasn’t expecting you here, Painwheel,” the attacker said as she stepped out into the room. “I just wanted to visit the good Doctor Avian.”

“Say, ain’t you supposed to be working with Brain Drain?” The cyborg had gotten up, hands set on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing with the Skullgirl? Was she that desperate for help that she had to go for some lame nurse? Seriously, even the Skullgirl on Annie has better minions!”

“I’m not in the mood for questions,” Valentine drawled, crouching into a wannabe ninja pose. “I think it’s about time we shut down these experiments for good, don’t you?”

Peacock grinned at that, fingers wiggling at the thought of all the weapons she had prepared. “If by experiments you mean what they did to your boobs, sure!” She was about to bring on Lenny and George until her leftmost eye caught some _thing_ speeding through the air faster than she could react—

“No!” came the howl, along with the blades that clawed the churning blob out of the air. The nurse had to leap away as they tore through shrieking metal. Painwheel crawled forward, then pushed herself onto her feet, sluggish but simmering. “Valentine,” she breathed, her voice throaty and scratchy but actually saying words. “You’ll _pay._ ”

“Glad to see you among the living!” Peacock chirped back while Avery popped out of the top of her hat to throw a confetti party. It was a cause for Cubans and celebration, except for the inconvenient nurse and that blob-thing reforming in front of them.

“Wretched, misbegotten souls.” The thing could talk! That was real impressive, considering it was coming out of this gross one-eyed conglomeration of parts and people that, much to Peacock’s surprise, actually looked uglier than Painwheel. In a word, this thing looked like an eldritch abomination’s awkward smear frame. “You dare turn your arms against us?” she – or, hell, _it_ – hissed.

“Damn right we do!” Peacock grinned, glad to cuss without Avian’s innocent ears around. She cocked her head to her fellow lab rat. “Say, Painy, you can take on Nurse Bazongas over here, and I’ll tackle this crappy bootleg.”

“Gladly,” Painwheel snarled, claws jutting from her fingertips. “Get over here, Valentine!” she roared as she lunged after the nurse, ready for another round.

“And as for you,” Peacock said, her buddies having recovered and backing her up, “I’ll show you what I think of off-model knockoffs.” Her grin grew wider, because Lab Eight, like the last episode of a big series, had blown its budget on her. And boy oh boy, that meant this was going to be something beautiful. The thought of all the racks and racks of weaponry nearly brought a tear to her eye. 

She spun her pistol out into her hands, bombs and biplanes already whipping out of thin air, and the explosions already begun. Yes, big explosions and general catastrophe – Annie would be so proud of them.

 

After surveying the damage, Peacock grinned and decided, “Well, all’s well that ends well!” Now was the time to finally enjoy her cigar, so she gnashed the end of it between her teeth and grabbed her match. “Wanna try a smoke, Wheel?”

The kid jumped at the sound of her voice, then shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m not good with them.”

“All the more for me, then.” The cyborg chuckled and snorted a stream of smoke, surveying the damage done. They had probably destroyed more things than the crazy intruders would have by themselves, and the money guys were going to be hopping mad about that. But hey, if the two of them cleaned up the Skullgirl’s mess, they wouldn’t have to worry about funding for a long time.

Mister Roboto, on the other hand, didn’t deserve a single cent. “Stupid nerd,” she muttered. “Some soo-per genius he is! Can’t even keep his own experiments in line.” She cracked her teeth at Painwheel, holding her cigar in thick fingers. “I have to say, I was worried that you were just some doormat, before you started walloping old Valentits back there.”

Painwheel’s face got all soft. “I had been trying to break Brain Drain’s control for a while. I…I think you might have helped me. What finally made me—”

“Whatever!” Peacock waved her hands, not in the mood for sugary displays. “I just needed a straight man in my crew. And I ain’t having a zombie puppet thing for that.”

They stood around a bit like that, Peacock puffing away and Painwheel’s spinal chain twisting in the air. Around them, the lab assistants were futilely sweeping away at wreckage, and Big Band’s crappy jazz tunes hung in the air. “You know,” the kid began, her voice hoarse, “you remind me of a friend I had, too.”

Peacock chuckled, shook her head. “Yeah, right. I’m one of a kind.” Puffing up her chest, she said, “I gotta admit, though, you and I make a pretty decent team. What do you think?”

“I guess I agree,” the taller girl said, smiling.

“You guess? Bah.” Someday the kid would learn. She thought back to that brawl: bullets flying left and right, bombs popping all around them… It was just like old times in the No Man’s Land. She crumpled up the last bits of her cigar, about ready to tell a story like an old fart veteran, except the doc had come to interrupt them.

“I suppose we can say that you two are successfully prepared to face the Skullgirl.” The old man shifted on his crutches – he had taken a scalpel to the knee, but nothing worse than that. “How do you feel, Painwheel?”

“Fine,” she croaked. “I have to go after Valentine. I know where they are, I can – I can feel it.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the ground. “I’m not going to let her get away with this. With any of this.”

Avian nodded. “If you pursue them, you should be able to finish them off. Then you can track down the Skullgirl.” He looked at each of them in turn. “That’s what I ask of both of you.”

“Don’t sweat it, Doc,” Peacock said, taking Painwheel by the arm. She didn’t fight back this time – sheesh, it took her long enough to learn. “But I expect to have the TV room ready by the time we get back!”

“We’ll try our best, Patricia,” he said, cracking a toothy smile. “Be careful, both of you!”

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha,” she muttered, lugging Painwheel behind her as she waved to her gang. “Get the swag wagon ready! We got work to do!” She looked over her shoulder to the girl who was trying to stumble after her. “See, here’s the plan - once we get this whole Skullgirl affair sorted out, we’re gonna go have a little talk with Brain Drain. Then we’ll blow up the city. Then we’ll come home in time for dinner and toons! What do you say?”

“If we blow up the city,” the experiment stammered, “then who will make the cartoons?”

“We do, you idiot! I thought you figured this out.” She shook her head, smirking. “I even got our title – Murderous Melodies! It’s gonna be great.”

Thankfully, the swag wagon didn’t have a dent on it despite the mayhem in the lab. They had to cram Painwheel in a way so that her hatredcopter wouldn’t abuse the upholstery, which meant that everyone was piled up in the car in a way that probably violated a million regulations. Hell, that wasn’t mentioning the way Andy drove on the wrong side of the road about half the time, and they probably ran over about two dozen old grannies and kids every time they went out, but what was the bureaucracy going to do about it? Pull them over? Andy didn’t even know how to do that.

“Which way we going, boss?” The anvil’s gloved fingers smashed every button on the dash before finally getting the car fired up. 

“It’s the Grand Cathedral,” Painwheel said. “That’s where she is.”

“Hop to it, Andy!” Peacock whacked him on the head with her foot, and passed an arm around Painwheel’s shoulder. “Time to paint the town red!”

Tires squealed against the ground as they took off, faster than any road runner. As Painwheel settled back in her chair, Peacock thought, with much satisfaction, that this was going to be the start of a beautiful relationship.


End file.
